Blood and Stars - Episode 1 – My first mistake

I'm not really sure what I was hoping to achieve, or why it was ever a good idea but now illuminated by the cold hard light of a moonbeam and with blood dripping off the knife in my hand I had more questions than answers. I fought to bring my ragged breathing under control, the sweat now cooling on my forehead, the pounding of my heart sounding loud in the room.

I let go of the knife, it clattered onto the floor, emphasising the quiet. I looked down to the knife, I had hoped it would land with the point buried into the wooden floor with the handle left to quiver.

My legs gave way, I landed on my side face to face with the corpse that had once been Sherri Greenlowe. Her eyes bored into me, unblinking and glassy stare matched with her mouth twisted in ugly terror. Her last moments alive etched themselves on my mind, her cries of protest and questioning still rang in my ears. This was supposed to be the end of it but something told me it was only the beginning and my world was going to take a distinct turn for the worse.

I thought it probable He would not be pleased with this result although in defence of my actions He'd not made any requests for Sherri to be brought to him. Still I should have at least asked Him I suppose, but then I hadn't planned on killing Sherri, it just happened y'know? Mental note to self though, don't leave your kill kit where any casual acquaintance might come across it, seemingly leads to a large amount of upset, strings of awkward questions and, of course, someone getting killed.

I needed a drink, a very large drink. I stood up, moved to the kitchen and took vodka from the freezer and cranberry juice from the refrigerator. The hot penny smell was driven from my mouth and nostrils by the fire of Polish spirit. My killing schedule was all out of whack now and I was supposed to be much calmer at this point of proceedings. Fuck I hate it when people come by unannounced, I need time to prepare for being around real people, I had tried to explain this to Sherri on several occasions when she had hinted at an impromptu appearance. She had only laughed and pushed my shoulder in that annoying way people do when they think you're just messing with their heads and being deliberately provocative. In truth this action merely serves in me wanting to put my fist through that person's face.

Half of the drink now consumed my breathing and heart-rate had returned to normal. My mind was still racing however, mainly with things like; there's a fucking dead woman lying on my hardwood floor, how I am I going to get rid of her body? I looked over at Sherri's cooling corpse, I noticed with some irritation that pools of blood were forming on my European oak floor, typical; even in death she was causing problems. I realised too that disposing of her body and getting blood out of a wooden floor were insignificant given that I had to tell Him that I'd killed out of bounds, fuck it, He would be seriously pissed when I told him but He'd get over it.

Telling Him, well no time like the present I suppose, the sooner I feel the burn of His wrath the sooner I can be forgiven for straying. I slid down the wall and landed with a soft thump, legs akimbo. I put my drink down beside me and pulled my phone from my trouser pocket. Deep breath, gulp of drink – time to dial, the hounds of fate baying in the distance. The call was answered after one ring, the silence heavy in my ear.

“Speak”

The gravel-strewn voice tumbled into my ear and rattled my brain.

“Sir, I...”

“You fucked up didn't you?”

I paused, “Yes”

He sighed, “Should I know the person?”

“No, she was an ex-girlfriend, it wasn't planned Sir”

I had picked up the knife and had begun doodling on the wooden floor with its point.

“I should fucking well hope not indeed!”

Sherri's right hand was within reach, clamping the phone to my ear with my shoulder I pulled it closer, wedging her forearm under my thigh so her hand was held upright between the tops of my thighs.

“Do...do you want her anyway?”

He pondered this for a few seconds, I started slicing through the top joint of her thumb, a stylised eight pointed star I thought would look good.

“Yes, I think I can find a use for her, decorate her for me”

A grin spread across my face, “I've already started Sir, she will look like the night sky”

A click and the line went dead. I stopped slicing and ended the call on my phone. I poured the last of my drink down my throat. I went to the kitchen for a refill and then brought my kill kit to Sherri's side. It was time to work.